PRETTY HOLLOW THINGS

Longing deep down
Gasping soundless sound
Because of things you cannot have
So much has fallen through your hands
There is no constellation prize
Only a slow and drawn out demise
They are not for thee
She said to me
Whatever you see
That you would like
Looks back in fright
As if to say
We cannot stay
The fairer sex and success
Are only fleeing and retreating
From the likes of thee
Transparently they see
What you know yourself to be
A Nihilist
Which they engage with
As though to say
That all ought to be this way
Reduced to nothing
So as to not be mistaken for being something
Regarding the absolute
Very true
But conventionally
Still difficult to see
No matter how much you are rejected
Nothingness will be detected
It is there for you
To heal and sooth
Things and meanings are retreating
When pretty hollow things are fleeing
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